07/07/25
⠀Hi, Sebastian. I would say "I've told you everything I've thought about you, every emotion and detail," but more and more thoughts, emotions, and details come to mind every day. I'll have something here for you soon.
⠀Hi, Angel. It's nice to finally be able to gather myself and write to you. There's many things I want to say to you now that I'm better, but let me start with this; I am indubitably in love with you. You've heard it a lot, and I'm always going to remind you despite that fact. You make me unwell, completely drunk off of you (especially when I'm actually drunk). You're my favorite drug, sickeningly so. You're addicting. I'm a mess around you. A sappy, needy and whiny, mushy mess, always wanting you, you, you. You know how I am at this point. Always needing you only; a moth irrevocably drawn to your flame. I've tried to catalog my feelings—sorted them into neat compartments of “swoon,” (Deltarune) “desire,” “comfort,” and “madness”—but they all collapse into one: you. And now that I'm whole again—or as whole as one can be when half their heart beats in another place—I want you to understand how deep this runs. It isn't a passing infatuation or a reckless spark; it is the gravity that holds me steady when the world tilts. When I'm with you, time fractures: seconds bloom into lifetimes, and lifetimes collapse into seconds. I taste your name on my tongue long after I've whispered it. You are both the storm and the calm in me—your absence rips me open, and your presence sews me back together in brighter threads. So here is what I promise: I will remind you—daily, hourly—of how wholly, how irrefragably, I belong to you. I will chase away your doubt with my certainty. I am happiest, most alive, entirely at peace, when I am yours.